


The Missing Green Eyes

by ItsMeYaGirlAdam



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A few years after season 8 finale, F/F, F/M, Filling in Plot Holes, OC character because the show's writers ruined the show for me but I still love the world, Underage Prostitution, from depressing to hopeful story plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21863863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMeYaGirlAdam/pseuds/ItsMeYaGirlAdam
Summary: Tar was born after the Throne war, into a family business of prostitution thinking this was all life had for her until she has two faithful meetings: one with a dragon and one with Sansa Stark's daughter. These faithful encounters lead Tar into an adventure of self-discovery where she learns she carries more weight behind those green eyes than she knows.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Intro.

**Author's Note:**

> Full Disclosure:  
> -I do not condone underage prostitution and everything written in this fic is fully fictional and meant to not harm anyone. If you are not comfortable reading this kind of content please do not read it and feel free to leave. If you have any suggests of warnings I can add to this story please comment below and let me know. I am new to AO3 and would appreciate the reader's input in Tagging my story according to the correct warnings.

**Chapter One:** Intro.

The air had simmered into autumn warmth, whispering of its upcoming winter. The land laid in between the Six Kingdom’s shadow of summer and its neighboring Kingdom of the North. The forever snow that would fall almost every 365 days of the year lingered at the border, and its reach would fill the nearby lands into white days. Autumn was the foreshadow of winter, a warning of its ever approach. The people were used to the change in weather. They’ve lived in this land for many decades, centuries even if one believed the tales sung in taverns with musicians filled to the brim with good wine and whores. They adorned themselves with thin fur jackets during the mornings and would then shrug them off thin shoulders during the afternoon when the sun rose hot in the sky and the leaves shed their leaves. Poverty was rampant here. A once-prosperous land that had connected the North and Six Kingdoms, acting as a trade point fell during the Throne War. Now it just laid as a forgotten land, lost in its shadow of the capital and swallowed by the cold of the North. 

The town consisted of one family, large in size and of merchants and travelers who stopped by the only tavern opened for miles between the two kingdoms. The House Boar was a tavern run by women, and the children, fathered by the tavern’s patrons. The women acted as the servers and whores while the children were the maids that would come in during off-hours and mop up vomit and spilled wine. Among these children was Tar, she was a small thing, thin arms with sickly green veins. Her hair was always in a messy, dirty grey heap of stray hairs sticking to her bird neck. She was the granddaughter of the eldest, mother to all seven of her aunts, who now laid sick in the barn behind the tavern where the pigs liked to lay, awake from the sun’s gaze. She was near her deathbed, the past war’s famine finishing its toll on her body.

“Come here Tar, let me get a good look at you.” The child raised her green eyes to stare at her grandmother’s hand, boney and thin like a twig. “Come, child, come.” A hoarse cough rippled through the old woman, guilt rising up as bile in Tar’s stomach at the sight of forcing her grandmother to exert herself. She stepped forward, hands in, tightly held together in front of her.

“I’m here.” She whispered. Her body shaking with the cool air of the autumn morning.

“Ah yes,” her grandmother spoke, “Those eyes will lead you places, just like they did to me.” A soft smile laid on a face plastered with a senile gaze. “You will soon live your 12th winter here, and you’ll be put to work with your cousins. Always remember, you have the blood of a whore in you. The women in our household were born to please, but great pleasure comes at a prize.” Her eyes suddenly turned hard, cold, as if death was staring back at her. “Never forget what you’re worth. Make sure that anyone who reaps ecstasy from your body pays their due debt to you.” A cough pushed the old woman to her side, her body shaking while her lungs failed to remove the phlegm.

“Yes grandmother,” Tar whispered under her breath, scared of her grandmother’s skeleton fingers and of the duty she was passing onto her.

“Tar! The bar needs a good shining before the customers get here!” Aunt Linda screamed from the Tavern’s back door. In a hurry to get away from her grandmother’s living corpse, Tar uttered a hurried goodbye and ran back inside the tavern. Inside there were still men drinking, but they were calm. The liquor making them sleepy instead of raw and violent. Stepping over to the bar she was handed a bucket of water out of Cousin Jill’s hand. He gave it to her with a shove, the water splashing and tipping over the rim and onto her shoes. He didn’t like working in the tavern. He was the eldest boy and he wanted to leave, away from his reputation as the son of a whore. Tar paid no mind to him and started wiping the rag over breadcrumbs and broken glass. Tar had always been a silent character in the family, much like her mother. “I swear that old bat is taking her sweet time getting to hell’s doorstep.” Aunt Linda huffed. “Make sure you make it spotless. I can’t go around helping you clean up. I got first shift today.” 

Linda was a tall woman with a prominent nose and striking light brown eyes. She resembled Tar’s deceased mother in the same way they liked to bite their nails when upset and how their brown hair was always braided into a fine half ponytail, but despite the similarities, they hadn’t been true sisters. Tar’s mother had possessed green eyes just like Tar, a trait lost on everyone else. Her mother had been the firstborn out of seven children, all had a different patrilineage. 

“Yes, Aunt Linda. I got it.” Shuffling as quiet as a mouse Tar made her way to the back of the bar pulling loose wrappers and more glass from in between each floorboard. Her attention solely devoted her task until someone walked through the tavern doors, pushing the door open and making a screeching sound at the sound of hinges being forced past their usual swinging point.

“Linda, my love bring me a beer!” It was Horder, he was Aunt Linda’s regular, he liked fucking her from behind even during her off-hours.

“What’s gotten into you this time?” Aunt Linda looked annoyed, but the glint her eyes spoke how pleased she was having him come around. She served him a drink.

“Our cripple of a king has sent out a reward for whoever captures that bloody dragon that’s been burning our crops and eating our sheep!” He exclaimed clearly excited at the prospect of getting to hunt something other than deer. “Me and the boys were going to go haunt the bastard anyway, but now I’ll get paid for the sport!” His spirits were so light that his ego hit the ceiling and hung there. He pulled Linda into his lap, her surprised scream filling Tar’s ear who hid behind the bar. 

“With that money, I’ll get to fuck you from one winter to the next.” His proclamation made Linda blush, an impressive feat considering Linda’s line of work. “Or better yet,” he whispered into her ear, taking her earlobe into his mouth, “I’ll buy you from this shitty tavern and take you on a journey to the capital.” His promised spilled into Linda’s mouth with a kiss and made her drunk. Linda wanted out, they all did, but with no other line of work nearby and being a woman, this was their livelihood.

Sickened by the sloppy sound of her aunt sucking Horder’s tongue Tar crawled her way out from behind the bar. Her bucket filled with now dirty water and her pockets filled with trash and broken glass that needed to be discarded, but her exit wasn’t as smooth as she’d hope.

Pulling away from Aunt Linda Horder called out to Tar, “Well if it isn’t the slut in training.” He smiled amused at his little nickname towards her. Tar turned towards him, disgust in her eyes. “Now that’s no way to look at a customer is it?” His voice rang in her ear, her angry welling up. Horder was the worst man she’d ever encountered. He lied about everything. He lied to Aunt Linda.

“Come on Horder, ignore the kid. Were in the middle of something.” Linda pouted, batty her eyelashes into an expression she was far too old to pass off.

“I’m just trying to make conversation with your niece, but I see she has yet to learn manners.” He cupped Linda’s cheek, trying to act like all his actions held no malice. “Now that think about it.” He leans forward, staring into Tar’s evergreen eyes, a sly smile playing on his lips. “She’ll be turning 12, soon won’t she?” A flash of fear spread through Linda’s eyes at that before setting into an annoyed glare.

“Yeah, so what of it?” She pulled herself off his lap.

“Oh come one Linda, don’t be like that. I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind helping your niece into womanhood.” His smile was lopsided, the alcohol finally taking a toll on his body.

“As if you could afford a virgin.” Aunt Linda huffed, but Tar couldn’t tell if it was out of anger on Tar’s behalf or out of pure jealousy.

“I will if I get that dragon.” His voice was low now, gone was his merry mood. Aunt Linda had annoyed him.

Scared Tar left the tavern, not wanting to overhear anymore of their conversation or find out what other intentions Horder had for her. She knew she’d soon have to bed a man. She knew it was a big event, one that brought lots of money to the family business, but Tar felt uncomfortable at the notion of being bedded by any man and revolted at the idea of that man being Horder. She’d been promised by her cousins that they’d try and find her a gentle man, one that wouldn’t whip her or pull her hair. Horder was not a gentle man, Aunt Linda was a testament to that.

She ran back towards the barn, where her grandmother’s ghostly body was less terrifying than a man forcing her to bleed, but much to her dismay her grandmother was dead.


	2. Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I lied and finished this chapter sooner, so here it goes!

**Chapter Two:** Endings

Autumn was ending soon, the trees laid almost bare, getting naked for the snow to come. Tar laid in a small heap of dried leaves. Her body covered in an array of orange and red and yellow. She was afraid. She’d been given the ‘talk’ by her Aunt Jenifer. _You’ll have to take a bath beforehand of course; we can’t have you going in looking like you usually do. Maybe we’ll finally get to wash and put that hair into a clean braid for once._ Tar reached up towards the flower crown she’d made resting on her grey hair. _When the auction is over, we will take you into the room he has rented out for you. All you have to do is lay there, he’ll do the rest. We don’t expect much from you yet, it’s your first time. It’s going to hurt._

 _It’s going to hurt._ Echoed in Tar’s mind, her body pulling itself tight against itself, her arms wrapped around her shoulders. She didn’t want it to hurt, she didn’t want it all.

She closed her eyes, tears breaking through her eyelashes. She was going to be strong. When the day came, she told herself, she was going to be strong, she was going to be strong.

“Well if it isn’t the slut in training.” Horder’s cheeky comment made Tar spring like a coil, her body buzzing with a sense of urgency. The leaves pulled loose from her clothes as she sat up from her leaf mount.

“What do you want.” She stared him down hard. Her distrust towards this man was so innate that she didn’t need much of a reason to show how much she hated him.

“Don’t be like that Tar, remember to be nice to your patrons. After all men like me will make your livelihood.” He grinned, biting the head at what had been making her so insecure the past few weeks.

He stared at her, his eyes drinking her body in. She was still childish; her body was a late bloomer compared to the other woman in the tavern. Her breast were none existing, and her most prominent feature were her clavicles that sunk in at her breast bone, but this fact didn’t seem to deter the train of thought Horder was thinking. His eyes had gone dark. He stepped closer to her, his axe in hand.

“You know, I came looking for that stupid dragon. He stole some sheep from the neighboring farmland. Who would have thought I would have found you instead, here playing in the leaves like a little wood nymph?” He licked his lips and set his axe down. “You’re very pretty you know that. The men down by the camp are making bets to see who gets to bed you this winter.” With his axe down he started to remove his coat. “We’re all going to be there. Cheering for the man who gets to fuck the green-eyed whore.” His coat was on the ground and so was his pants buckle. He smiled like he was inviting her in, Tar stood frozen. She was stuck among the leaves. Her body weighed down by the fear that sat heavily at the pit of her stomach. Her legs trembled with the thought of him spreading them, ripping her. “But I was thinking, just now, why wait until winter. Why waste money on a whore.”

He stepped forward his hard on present as day as he bared himself at her. Her fear peaked at the sight of it and she struggled to get up to pull herself away from the leaves that nailed her to the ground, but it was too late. He seized her arm and pulled her back, her flower crown falling off to her side. She screamed, “No! No! Let me go! Please!” He slapped her face, making her go silent with the shock of the blow. He pushed her hand south, where his dick rose and forced her to touch him. She cried. It was disgusting, it burned her hand. He laughed.

His laugh echoed in her head, it burned deep into her brain and she screamed a yell for help so strong that the forest shook. The trees behind her vibrated and branches broke off as the Earth quaked. Horder’s laughter died instantly. His eyes looking up, past the clearing they were in and into the line of trees behind Tar. A dragon rose out from under the foliage. Dark with scales and spikes the dragon glared down at them. He breathed and the air pushed both Tar’s hair and Horder’s back. Looking behind her Tar stared at the dragon, her green eyes glistening with shed tears, begging for it burn them both. And the dragon roared, a hot red appearing from the back of its throat. Fire expelled from its core and burned a clear line into the clearing.

Eyes closed Tar sobbed, the heat of the blast making her brow wet with sweat and fear. She was too terrified to open her eyes, to register how much of her skin had been burned off, but the feeling of something nudging her from behind made her snap her eyes open. The tight grip of Horder’s hand was still on her wrist, but this time there wasn’t a body for it to be attached to. With a yelp of shock, she shook her wrist free of the dismembered arm. In front of her Horder’s body had been burned off two thirds, leaving behind a raging fire. The trees in front of her were catching fire fast. In her shock Tar just stared, watching the flames lick their way through the dried trees and leaves, growing in strength and numbers. It wasn’t until the dragon behind her nudged her again that she rose from her slouched position with a jump. The dragon stared at her, shifting its head to the side. She took a deep breath and reached towards her beating heart. Horder laid scorched in front of her, but the fire that had saved her was now manifesting itself into a bigger monster.

She needed to warn everyone in town, the fire was moving quick, but before she took her first step in the direction of her town Tar faced the dragon. It stood tall and imposing. Swallowing the fear in her heart she waited for the pulse to settle into her stomach. As thanks she picked up her fallen flower crown and took a step towards the creature. It huffed a gust of air that almost threw Tar backwards unto her backside, but she dug in her heels and cursed under her breath. She outstretched her arms, the crown gripped tightly in her hand and waited to see if the dragon understood her intentions. It did.

Drogon’s eyes gave the little girl in front of him one last look before it leaned forward, downwards and gave permission for Tar to place the flower crown over one of his large spikes. “Thank you.” She whispered and ran away, counting her luck that the dragon hadn’t eaten her and hoping she’d make it back into town before the fire did. 

* * *

The fire had reached the town and laid itself out on the dried grass. The livestock was panicking, and the chickens were running from side to side screeching. The camps were the first to burn up. The men who had made camp on the outskirts of the town were running around, throwing curse after curse, telling the fire to fuck its own mother. Some laid on the ground scorched, still tangled on the tent’s fabric that was now their second skin. It clung to their pores, worming its way in, erasing flesh from bone.

The smell choked and tugged at Tar’s clothes as she pushed her way out the forest and into the clearing that held the town. She gagged as the smell crawled its way into her open mouth breathing, but she tried to ignore it. She tried to ignore how her eyes stung with the smoke and tears. Tavern. She ran towards the House Boar.

If she had any air left in her lungs Tar would have screamed. She would have cried and yelled, but her breath was running short and her body ached from overuse. The tavern was on fire like everything else in town. The flames played hooky on the roof, burning their way thoroughly on the top floors and spread as the wind picked up. The woman scurried out of House Boar; some children were in their mother’s hands; others ran holding each other and some of Tar’s cousins weren’t so lucky. They all rushed out. The barn from behind the tavern collapsed and out went what little livestock the house of pleasure had. The pigs died in their resting spot, too fat to outrun the flames.

“Tar! Tar! Where you’ve been?” Aunt Linda was at her side, holding one of Tar’s baby cousins who cried, a burn mark burning red on its left cheek.

“I…I...” The image of the dragon, of Horder’s dismembered arm, the now foreign feeling of relief all passed Tar’s mind, but she was unable to conjure up words. She’d never seen so much death. Her aunt’s eyes were glowing, filled with a wild fear Tar had never seen, but yet again, she’d never seen Aunt Linda’s hair as a disheveled mess before. Always in a neat in her braided half ponytail, Aunt Linda was supposed to be composed, more than Aunt Jenifer or any of other woman she called family. The fire was burning its way through Linda’s composure and Tar feared it.

The fire died down with the roar of Drogon making he’s way past the town. With his wings spread, he looked like a large bird from the distance it flew. Nothing more if it wasn’t for the deafening roaring and its connection to the tragedy happening below. The fire followed the dragon North, finishing its way through the town and into whatever was left of the forest until it met a cold so freezing it chilled the red heat into steam.

Slowly the people emerged from the aftermath. Covered in soot first and then mourning for the dead. In a matter of hours, the town had become a graveyard. Tar was silent. Her virtue had been saved but at the cost of so many lives. She’d heard stories of the dragon, of its power and destruction that always followed. Covering Jill’s face with dirt Tar swallowed her shame. She should have done as her aunts had instructed her to do, lay there. She shouldn’t have screamed. Crying Tar dropped the shovel looking away from her cousin’s face, but her tears weren’t for him, they were for her because no matter how much she told herself rape would have been better, in the pit of her stomach she felt relief.


	3. A Gold Dragon Coin

**Chapter Three:** A Gold Dragon Coin

Winter Came. It rose out from the Northern lands and into town. The land there still laid burnt, darken and rotten from the corpses that burrowed deep inside, but now a film of white decorated its grounds. It made the sight of the land a bit more bearable, less ugly and more tragic. The once scarce camps grew in number amounting to fifty men, both northern and natives of the Six Kingdoms. The dragon always called for destruction. These men were there to hunt it, and so the tavern was rebuilt, hazardously, with a leaky roof and doors that creaked. Sometimes there’s a draft in high noon when the wind would enter to whisper harsh colds into moaning beds and staggering drunks.

Tar sat in front of the bar on a throne made of three chairs stacked onto each other. A deep red pillow added to Tar’s height even more. Her feet dangled, barefoot and thin. Her hair was made into a braided half ponytail with a dried-up flower crown made mostly of twigs and dead leaves. The silver of her washed hair shined in the dim light of the candles. She wore a dress made of the finest linen, thin and transparent, just like Tar’s figure. The only aspect of Tar left untouched by her aunts were her eyes, that glowed emerald in the ghostly glare of the tavern. Her lips were red from biting them.

The men laughed and cheered, drunk on wine and from the warmth of the hearth. Outside the air raged. A snowstorm kept everyone inside, merry with booze and a celebration. Tar’s aunts were all working that night, providing drink after drink, whispering words of encouragement to the men who could offer a good sum for the flower of a twelve-year-old girl.

The musician playing his harp sang of old, of the glory of Northern men who fought bravely against icy ghosts and of a woman who knew how to hold her own. This part brought out coarse laughter from the men. They banged their mugs and wooden cups in a sour cheer. A man with a rugged voice and a thick black coat laughed the loudest. His cheeks rosy with liquor and a drenched beard shouted over his men at the musician, “Sing about me next! I’ll prove a better song than a bitch who carries around a needle! I got a real sword here!” The man’s companions laughed and edged on the singer to switch the tune of his song into one of rage and conquest.

He was Jarson, son of a Hilden, a farmer who rose as a warrior during the Throne War when protecting his land from bandits. He won the favor of knights stationed further south of the border and has since left his lands in the hands of his sons and has traveled with his men for many years, seeking the glory of the sword. Or so that’s the tale being told, but tonight he was a drunk with a pocket full of coin.

“Settle down! Settle down! The auction is about to begin!” Aunt Jennifer’s voice rang through the room in a crackle. Her crow’s feet made her eyes look jagged and tense, but her smile was warm and soft, a true hostess. She turned to her sisters and nieces, her eyes losing all softness. “Linda get the crown.” She whispered, her voice all business. “Today is a special day. Today on her 12th winter princess Tar of House Boar will be given to a lucky man inside this room as her prince of the night.” Hordes of laughter erupted from the men; the sound bubbled up inside Tar’s ears. The way they made these ceremonies as satire to the crown made Tar’s stomach turn. They were acting as if she was some princess, a maiden about to be given to her prince charming, perfuming how this would be the first night of many where she be sold for the pleasure of others.

At that moment the door to the tavern was pushed open with a harsh bang. It spooked everyone into silence, the lightness of the moment gone. Inside stepped a man six foot tall with big muscles hidden behind a thick coat of grey furs, a scar rested through the middle of his right eyebrow. Next to him was a smaller figure, one of auburn hair covered in a blanket of white furs. Her eyes a shocking grey. They walked in from the cold blast of snow outside, running away from it, their noses red and their cheeks raw, but they looked unbothered by it.

For the first time, that night Tar was grateful for being seated so high in the make-shift throne. She could clearly see the new patrons from where she sat. Her eyes followed the girl, she’d never seen such a clean white-colored coat. Everything about this new visitor intrigued Tar. The way she stood next to the big beardly man like he was there for her, not the other way around. Her head was held up high surveying the insides of House Boar when her eyes settled at the bar. Tar’s body jittered under her stare; an intense heat formed in her chest.

Aunt Jenifer was the first to recover from the new arrival's sudden entrance. Taking the homemade crown from Jenifer’s still staring form she cleared her throat. “I want to welcome our new customers from the storm! Good sir, feel free to accept this drink on the house.” With one look Jenifer sent her eldest daughter running from sitting on a customer’s lap to the bar and back on the floor handing the new visitor a mug. Cousin May kept her eyes down and almost bowed when offering the big man the cup. The man glanced down at the girl in white next to him, hesitating, but she just smiled at him, and that seemed to do the trick. The man accepted the drink and poor May could getaway. “Today we are celebrating,” Aunt Jenifer recapped, “Tar’s virtue is up for the most noble of men in this room today, and we all know what makes a man noble.” Jenifer grinned a gap-tooth smile, “Money!”

The good mood returned at this announcement. The men laughed again and chanted ‘Money’ over and over again, smashing mugs and throwing plates in the desire to make a ruckus for the sake of it. “I offer 3 Copper Pennies!” Yelled a man in the back nursing his drink, his crazy eye moving from side to side as he shook from laughter. Three Copper Pennies could barely buy one a loaf of bread. At this Aunt Jenifer pursed her lips into a fine line. Tonight was supposed to be the money grabber. The next child in line turning 12 was in the next few years, too long to wait. Tar needed to sell good, they needed to pay off the money borrowed for the repairs.

“Don’t be such a foolish old man! See those green eyes! She’s at least worth a Silver Stag!” This time it was Jarson, he eyed Tar with a hungry gaze. She shrank in her chair, turning away from the crowd arguing her worth.

“I’ll pay two Silver Stags! It’s been some time since I broke in a virgin!” Helm rang in between breaths of chugging his drink. He was already slipping into an alcohol coma and for a moment Tar found herself hoping it settle at that. One Silver Stag was beyond anything they could have hoped for let alone two! Plus, Tar thought to herself, that maybe it be easier if the man she was to lay with was as far gone as Helm. She’d often overhear her aunts and cousins whispering of how quick drunk men are. 

“Ha! As if you could afford two Silver Stags! I’ll make it three! I’ll need something to occupy me all night with this raging storm!” They were all loud and booming with liquid courage burning their veins, but even so, Jarson’s offer rang loud and clear in Tar’s ears and apparently it rang in her Aunt Jenifer too.

“It appears we have a prince!” She screamed into the boisterous room, quick to accept the money before any of them sobered up to how much they were giving up. “Please make way so we may crown our princess’s Tar’s prince!” She made her way to Jarson’s table and placed the crown on his greying head. His calloused hands went up to adjust it. Tar bit her lip. She could already feel a coldness running down her leg in the shade of summer roses. She closed her legs instinctively. Horder’s dismembered arm coming to mind along with the burning sensation of his penis in her small hands. It took all her self-control to keep from crying. This was how it was supposed to happen. She knew. She’d been preparing for it for years now, but still, her fear didn’t leave her.

“All right little bitch. You better not pass out in the middle of it because I ain’t stopping.” Jarson’s outburst made even Aunt Jenifer twitch, but she said nothing, keeping her politeness in check as the men laughed and teased Jarson for being a dog, a compliment disguised as an insult to men.

“Not so quick.” The girl in white stepped forward, pulling past the man in a grey coat who had already finished his drink. She walked her way towards Jarson, a look of confidence etched into her eyes and lips. “If we’re talking about nobility in terms of money.” She reached forward, picking up the crown in her well-kept hands and placing it on her head. “Then I am the one with the most of it in this room don’t you agree?” She said this ignoring Jarson’s red hot stare, anger boiling underneath patchy skin, handing Aunt Jenifer a Gold Dragon coin.

Aunt Jenifer’s eyes almost budged out in a look kin to a fish first experiencing life without water, but Tar found it difficult to laugh when the tension inside the tavern grew thick enough to claw through. The girl in white smiled triumphally at the silence that enveloped her, all eyes staring. Her guard quick to her side pulled out an axe from inside his coat. “Is there a problem?” The girl asked as Jarson glared at her, mid raised from his seat, his knuckles white around his mug. He sat back down. “I didn’t think so.” The girl turned back to Aunt Jenifer; her playful smile unwavering. “Now aren’t you going to crown me prince?”

The question seemed to do the trick and Jenifer rose from her stupefied stupor and hastily proclaimed the winner of the auction. “It seems that our mysterious visitor has proven to be the noblest in a moment of surprise!” Quickly she pocketed the coin. “Tar! Come over here!” With a jump, Tar pushed herself to the edge of the throne and with the help of Aunt Linda made her way down and towards the girl in white and Aunt Jenifer. “Lead her to the room.” It was a command, one that rang loud and clear. _Do as told and don’t ask any questions._ In a nervous trans Tar nodded her yes and stepped in front of her aunt leading the girl in white towards the stairs of the upstairs room, the man in the grey coat following, she glanced back at her aunt, who was now gathered at the bar counting her lucky stars, unaware or not caring that the two, not just one, was heading to the room prepared for Tar’s first bedding.

As she walked them up and through the hall of the second floor Tar’s legs felt like lead. Her heart was beating hard against her sternum like a trapped bird. No, like a trapped dragon given that Tar feared even opening her mouth in the chance that fire will come out and once again burn any good fortune her family had before her. Reaching the door at the end of the hall Tar opened it, allowing for the girl in white to enter before her, it didn’t feel right being in front of her. The girl took the signal and walked in, stopping only a moment to motion for the man in grey to stay outside, guarding the door.

Tar spared him a glance, he was huge, how could a girl ever order such a big man around? Her question hung in her mind as she closed the door and saw the girl in white examining the room with an eye of distaste. The room was the biggest of all, and the only one that held a round bed, usually held for special event orgies. It was coated in a clean white sheet meant to show of any bleeding on Tar’s part, evidence to the buyer that their purchase was indeed fresh. Nervously Tar reached behind her neck undoing the knot that kept her dress together. She didn’t understand what to do anymore. Her aunts had prepared her for being bedded by a man. He was meant to lead; Tar was just to undress and lay on the bed. This was different. How did women do it with other women? Was it even possible? Despite all her doubts, Tar’s body acted on auto control and she allowed the dress to fall to her feet. She stood for a while, taking in a deep breath before she walked towards the bed, passing the girl in white and laying down on it. Hoping she was doing right. 

The girl in white stared at Tar, her grey eyes widen in surprise and for a moment Tar feared she did wrong. “No, no, no.” The girl whispered under her breath as she took off her white coat. “I didn’t buy you to do this.” She placed her coat over Tar’s body undoing the cold Tar didn’t know she had. She’d never felt such warmth from anything before and she didn’t know if it was because of the softness from white fur against her skin or if it was the strange look the girl gave her, a look were grey eyes furrowed and a forehead wrinkled slightly in something akin to care that made Tar shed tears. Whatever had caused it Tar couldn’t stop it.

Instead, in between sobs Tar asked in a small, cracked plea, “Then why did you buy me for so much money?” Panic was rising fast like bile in her stomach, she could already feel it making its way up her esophagus. “I can’t pay you back! I can’t. I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay you don’t have too.” The girl looked flustered as this her eyes narrowed. Pushing her hair behind her shoulders she started to pace the room, unsure of what to do. Her confidence dwindling with every moment. Sensing this Tar swallowed her anxieties and quieted her sobs into gentle whimpers that made her shoulders roll with every small cry.

“Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be. I… I just couldn’t watch any longer seeing you sitting there as they sold you to the highest bidder. It’s sick.”

Tar stared at the girl in front of her. Shock stunning her crying completely. Sick? This girl saw something wrong with her being sold? “But you bought me. I have to do something for you! It’s only right! You paid a whole Gold Dragon coin for me! Let me do something!” Tar was on the verge of bursting from the tension she felt in her chest. She stood up letting the coat fall from her shoulders, her reed crown hanging onto her hair by tangling itself to it. “Please. I’m… I’m a whore. You paid for me; I have to do something for you. I have to.”

Exacerbated the girl pushed Tar back into the bed, picking up the coat once more. “Okay, okay, but you have to stop calling yourself a whore. You’re not a whore. You’re a human being. Mother says girls aren’t meant to be used by men.” Her last statement was said with firmness, a resolution so resolute it made Tar tremble at the thought of having a mother like that. The girl helped Tar into the coat again, this time making sure Tar slipped her arms into the sleeves and fastening it at the front. Now warm and calm with the idea that she won’t have to owe her, Tar’s heart finally settled.

Sitting next to Tar on the round bed the girl scratched her cheek in thought. “So what exactly do you plan to give me in exchange? I don’t really have any requests.”

At this Tar thought long and hard. What could she give to a mysterious girl who seemed to stand above the big man in grey and had a coat so soft it felt and looked like clouds? She didn’t want to take Tar’s virginity, but that’s all she had to offer. Her first bedding. Shyly Tar glanced over at the girl, she was taller than her, fuller too from being fed three meals a day. What could she give her? She thought what her aunts would do in a situation when the men didn’t want to bed them? The image of aunt Linda sitting on Horder’s lap went to mind. It always left a bad taste in her mouth at the sight of it, but this was something she should be able to give. Something she’d been told to share with someone special because it was the only thing, she could give that didn’t come with a price tag. She remembered her cousin May whispering about it before her own 12th year, happy she’d had found the merchant’s boy who liked to sneak her flowers. With one last moment of silence between the two girls, Tar pushed herself off the bed.

“What are you do…?” Tar pushed herself towards her confused savior cutting her off. Tar placed small hands on her shoulders, putting her right knee up against the edge off the bed to give herself some leverage. Chapped lips kissed soft lips. Tar’s heartbeat pulsed hot in her ears as she tried to remember how her Aunt Linda did it. Shyly she pressed harder against the girls’ lips, but that only made her groan in what seemed like pain. Opting to change strategy and avoid further embarrassment Tar pulled back from the kiss, leaving enough room between them to stick out her tongue and lick at the girl’s lower lip. To her achievement, she elicited a gasp from the redhead and Tar took this as her chance. Taking a page from Aunt Linda’s book she pushed her tongue inside.

The kiss was sloppy and slow. Nothing like how Aunt Linda would have done it. It was devoid of any passion, but it made up for it in its sincerity. Tar did her best and the redhead girl kissed back, both were inexperienced, but that didn’t matter at the moment. It only lasted a minute or two, nothing noteworthy, but regardless of that they were both left breathless and red from it.

“That... I was not expecting that.” The girl whispered.

Quick to panic Tar pulled away and rushed her words, “I’m sorry I thought that be okay.” 

The redhead laughed. The moment between the two gone. “No, it’s fine. We’re both girls so I’m sure it doesn’t count anyway.” She said nervously more to herself than to Tar, avoiding eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t it count?” Tar didn’t know why that hurt.

“Well because I’m not supposed to kiss anyone until marriage. I’m almost fourteen, my first bleeding will be coming soon.”

“Did I hurt your virtue?” Tar was sure this time she was going to vomit.

“No! This was good payment. It was good practice! Good practice.” She reached towards Tar, reassuring her that it was fine, that she was fine. She pulled her in, unto the bed and they laid there. “We’ve kissed and I still haven’t given you my name.” The girl laughed nervously. “It’s Catelyn Stark, nice to meet you Tar of House Boar.” She said softly, trying to change the awkwardness between the two into something softer.

Tar tried out her name, “Catelyn.” It was barely a whisper, but it brought a smile to the redhead girl at the sound of her voice.

“Cat. Call me Cat.”

Tar simply nodded yes, her eyes were growing heavy, the tension from the day pushing her into a deep rest. “Cat Stark.” Tar mumbled as she fell asleep wondering why ‘Stark’ sounded so familiar to her. 


	4. Leaky Roof

**Chapter Four:** Leaky Roof

A droplet falling from the ceiling landed on Tar’s right eye. Her eyelids fluttered but proved hard to maintain open. She felt enveloped in a softness she never wanted to escape. Her body temperature kept rising with every passing minute she stayed in bed, but the cold from the water falling from the roof’s leak was unrelenting. Finally, Tar opened her eyes and willed them to stay open. She was facing Cat. Catelyn was on her side, wrapped in the bed’s blanket sleeping soundly. Her chest rose with every breath and Tar understood why she felt so warm. She was safe.

A knock on the door snapped Tar from her awestruck. Turning under the covers she pushed herself off the bed and unto the cold wooden floor. She winced at the sudden bareness she felt standing in the openness of the love room. She still had Cat’s white jacket wrapped around her, fastened at the front, it covered her all the way to her midthigh. On her tippy toes, Tar made her way to the door, not wanting to wake up the other girl. She opened it slightly peeking to see who it could be. On the other side, she spotted her Aunt Linda holding a silver tray.

“For the guest.” She eyed Tar’s bed hair and her naked form under the thick fur coat, a brow raised, “I see she’s treating you nicely.” An ugly smile spread on her lips. Aunt Linda had changed since Horder had been found dead, her smiles no longer reached her eyes. “Did she make you bleed yet?” A blush flashed on Tar’s face. “Did she need to use a broom handle or was her fist big enough?” Heat rose up to Tar’s ears, indignation at her aunt’s words made Tar fill with anger. Cat wasn’t like them, like any of them! “Come one, please do tell I’ve got 5 Copper Pennies riding on the broomstick.”

“No. She’s not like that she’s…” Tar didn’t know where her words were going, but she needed to defend her. “She’s different.” Tar dropped her head, eyes watering red. “She’s nice.”

Linda’s eyes had gone cold, “Don’t get attached. It’s never worth it.” Tar knew this. It was the number one rule they all had. They are customers buying a service, nothing more nothing less. Taking the tray from her aunt’s hands she backed into the room, her mind clouded with a strange sense of loneliness. “You’re walking fine.” Fear froze Tar in her steps and fear was what colored Tar’s face as she stared at her aunt, wide-eyed, but it was too late. Linda was already walking away making her way down the hall and downstairs.

It was at this moment of stunned fear that Tar noticed a chair next to the door and the man in grey sitting in it. He gave her a blank stare, one of indifference. He was there for Catelyn, not Tar’s safety. She gave him a nod of acknowledgment and to her surprise, he returned it. Going back inside she closed the door, her back leaning against it. The inside of the room was its own place in time, it was filled with the memories of last night. It echoed with their nervous laughter and Tar’s tears. It smelled of clean linen and breathed the gentles of soft lips. In this room Tar’s piece of happiness was held by a thread.

“Tar? Is that breakfast?” Catelyn spoke from the bed. Her hair falling in waterfalls around her shoulders, her bun from last night having been undone in her sleep.

Smiling Tar walked towards her and placed the tray on the bed. She picked up a bruised grapefruit and handed it to Catelyn. “Here.” The girl took the fruit staring at the wide-eye child before her. Tar’s hair was a mess and the reed crown she had was long gone somewhere, lost in the bedsheets, but it was how her hair almost matched the white of her coat and how it glistened with the light that pulled the air from Cat’s lungs. Or maybe it was the green eyes that stared at her with an admiration Catelyn didn’t know if she deserved, whatever it was it made Cat nervous. Despite Tar’s small frame that was practically bone-thin, and how her hip bone and collar bones both poked out as jagged edges, it was those eyes and hair that made Tar stand out too much.

“But where is your breakfast?” Tar shook her head smiling.

“This is for customers only.” It was the ease Tar said these things with that made Cat’s stomach churn.

Cat grabbed the bread and cut it in half along with the grapefruit and the thin piece of cheese she’d been given. “Now there’s breakfast for the both of us.” Tar stared at her for a moment. Surprise was evident, but there was something else in those eyes that Catelyn couldn’t decipher, something small that bordered on caution, but none-the-less, Tar took Cat’s offerings with gratitude. 

They ate on the bed, something Catelyn never got to do. She was raised as a princess, a Northern one, who knew how to wield a sword and mount a horse bred for war, but manners and etiquette were ingrained in her since birth. This moment of disorder and improperness was doing something to Cat’s rebellious side, and she relished in it with Tar at her side who sat cross-legged, a smile painted on her lips, but it was ruined when Barb knocked on the door.

Barb’s booming voice traveled under the door and into the room. “Lady Stark the storm has ended, and the men have regrouped in the campgrounds. We are waiting for you.”

This announcement changed Cat’s demeanor, her youthful look was gone, and she was back to the girl in white Tar first saw walking into the tavern. Catelyn was up and off the bed patting her dress back into place. She searched for her hair tie in the tangled sheets and pulled back her hair in a neat bun, her straight hair giving way to be folded and pinned in place.

Tar sat on the bed watching how a lady got ready. She’d never seen one. “I have to go.” Her words branded themselves in Tar’s chest. She was leaving. Looking down onto her lap Tar nodded. This moment had to end. “I wish I could take you with me.” At this Tar’s face went up, searching into Cat’s own grey ones searching for any amount of truth in those words. Her face was soft, eyeing Tar with pity. It made Tar feel small. “But you’re a citizen of the Six Kingdoms, and I am a Northern. We aren’t meant to mix.” Her words were quiet, mournful, but Tar didn’t protest. She was Tar of House Boar, a purebred whore and Cat was a lady, a real one with a guard and a virtue to protect. They shouldn’t mix.

Lady Stark left the room bidding her goodbye to the little girl she saved for a night, taking all the light and air with her.


	5. A Woman Named Jenevi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic Depiction of Rape and Non-Consensual sexual content is displayed in this chapter. You have been warned. Read at your own discretion.

**Chapter Five:** A Woman Named Jenevi

It was a harsh afternoon; the wind was rowdy, and the snow stuck and burned water spots onto everything it touched. Winter was ending and Tar was 13 now. The cold had lasted a year, it was receding and in a matter of months Winter should be over in the North too. Tar wondered if there were trees in the North like the trees they had here during the spring. She wondered if Cat had already experienced her bleeding, and if she was already a married lady with a prince of her own.

When Cat had left her cousins had teased her on how lucky she’d been to catch the eye of a princess. A princess. Tar had not been surprised to hear that her savior hadn’t just been a lady, but a princess too. It felt right.

“Tar hurry up! My shift is next too.” Tar shook herself back to reality, grabbing the bar of soap from the floor and washing her hair with it. Her cousin May needed to bath before her shift started, they all did. Finishing up she stood up from the tub and grabbed her towel, drying herself with it. Slipping her grey dress on Tar stepped out of the bathroom, her hair dripping wet in a braid.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine just go downstairs and help the kids set up.” May was a nice girl, the nicest of her cousins and the only one who shared in the same degree of reluctance to work as her.

Tar did as she was told and helped set up. The tavern was empty at the moment and the children were all running around sweeping the floor and putting mugs back at the bar. Tar picked up a wet rag and went table by table wiping the dirt and stains off as best as she could. Her arms were longer now, and her body was less thin, a benefit from being feed better now as a worker than as a child. Men liked their girls well feed. Her hair grew too, a side effect Tar thought from washing it and keeping it into a braid for the most part.

She reached the last table passing the cloth over a set of scratch marks. Tar scrubbed at it hoping to make it smaller, to disappear it from existence, but the wood remained blemished and Tar sighed, closing her eyes, trying to forget.

She hadn’t bled. Those were Aunt Linda’s words the moment Catelyn had left with her caravan of northern men. Tar knew this, but she’d been hoping to keep it a secret. That had been childish of her, she thought now, a whole year older and a woman now. Her crying and denial had earned her a slap from Aunt Jenifer. Bitterly she stared at the scratch marks. She’d forever remember the night Jarson paid for her. He had pulled her into his arms on this table, in front of everyone he rode her dress up, squeezing her body into his drunkenness. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. It had been only hours since she’d kissed Cat, she hadn’t wanted him to taint what little she still had from her. But as reward he bit her hard on her neck, she cried and tried to push him away, but she was small, and his grip was tight.

The men laughed along with him. Her cousins and aunts stared, May had looked away, she had been crying for her. “Listen men! Not even a rich bitch like the one from last night can beat a man where it really matters!” He pulled at Tar’s dress, tearing the front and lifting the hem off her thighs and pressed it over her belly button with a meaty hand. With his free hand, he pinned her head against the table, bending her over. The men watched with new interest; they were all holding their breaths. Jarson undid his pants and gripped her hips. Tar had cried, begged for someone to help, for Aunt Linda, for anyone, but no one did, and then Jarson slapped her hips onto his. Her nails gripped onto the table, scratching, trying to pull herself off, but he enjoyed that, the motion of her hips moving up and failing to stay there.

“Tar.” May’s voice from the staircase brought Tar back from the flashes of a year ago. Red-eyed Tar looked at her, the rag in her handshaking. “It’s time to open up shop.”

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath Tar wiped her tears away. “It’s time to work.” Leaving the rag back at the bar Tar walked over to her cousin and held her hand. They watched as the children went to the barn for the remainder of the evening and how the rest of their aunts milled in for the first shift. The door opened and the customers came in. They stood there together as long as they could, drawing strength from each other and then someone screamed for May to serve a drink and a man at the back asked for Tar to come to sit on his lap. With one last squeeze from May’s hand, they let go and got to work.

The man Tar was servicing was a handsy grandpa with tufts of grey hair poking her cheek as he kissed her neck, over the scar of teeth marks. When he started to rut against her, she pulled off. “Now, we can’t have that just yet!” She winked at him, her insides filling with bile. “The night is still young, why don’t you drink more?” She asked him, her lips in a pout, convincing him to spend more coin on their liquor business. The old man laughs and pulls her back onto his lap raising his mug to be filled again leaving some Copper Pennies on the table to be taken. For doing this Tar thanked the old man with a kiss. His heavy breathing stank of liquor and bad mouth hygiene, but none-the-less Tar slipped her tongue in, deepening the kiss, leaving the old man dizzy from it.

The night went on. Music rang and Tar changed laps after the old man had spent all his coin on wine. Customers who couldn’t pay received no attention. She was now holding a drink that belonged to a traveling merchant, he went by the name Carton. He was young and good looking, but his looks didn’t make it any more bearable. They all had the same eyes, the same look that objectified them all. He was talking with his company, men who followed him around because he had the money to pay them.

“Aren’t you going to drink anymore? If you want something to hold your mug, there’s a perfectly good table for you right there.” Her words bordered on disrespectful, but he was just sitting their holding her waist while she held his drink, laughing at something one of his boys said. Tar’s arms were getting tired.

“Now, now don’t get jealous. I was just talking to the boys about something business-related. I wouldn’t want to bore you with such troublesome things.” He smiled at her; his eyes clear. This one knew how to hold his liquor. “Why don’t we go upstairs and talk about things that could interest you instead?” He whispered into her ear, his breath making the hairs at the back of her neck stand.

Tar smiled, a trained smile she’d been practicing with May this whole year. It was a simple turn of the lip. The corners would lift up, her head would slightly lean to the side and she’d make sure she maintained eye contact. “Oh? I wonder what those things could be?” He started to kiss her neck, his hands making their way up her thigh and she gave a high pitch giggle as a reaction. Tar was amazed at how well she learned to fall into place, to fake it and act the part. “Let’s go,” she whispered into his ear, gripping his arm from riding any higher. 

The man grinned at her and picked her up from the table bridal style. Tar squealed in surprise and he carried her upstairs, Aunt Jenifer followed, the key at hand. Once upstairs Carton paid for the service and Aunt Jenifer unlocked the room. It was a small room, a bed laid at the wall opposite to the door with a window above it. He threw her there, his eyes glowing with a hunger Tar was all too familiar with now. He removed his shirt and his pants soon followed. Tar had already unbuttoned her dress from the front, and she laid on the bed waiting for him, naked.

He grabbed a fist full of white hair and kissed her, pushing himself on top of her. He was a good kisser Tar thought as she put her arms around his neck, letting him slip his tongue in between her lips. She let him guide her. He moved his hand down, between her legs and Tar arched her back. She disliked men like these. Unlike the regulars who frequented the tavern, he didn’t just want to fuck, he wanted more than a warm hole to put his penis through, he wanted someone to hold and someone to hold him back. He craved the reactions of the one underneath him and Tar gave him that. It was hard not to.

She drowned in his kiss and let the sensations carry her. He put two fingers inside of her, forcing her open and Tar let out a gasp, her hips shaking. He kept at it until a thin line of sweat covered Tar’s body and her moans came out in short gasps. He was quick to enter her next, breathing her scent in he thrust hard inside her. Despite him having prepared her Tar still whimpered at the stretch, this one was above average. He rutted against her pulling her legs over to close around his hips and Tar did as told. His groans grew louder and mingled with Tar’s own, and then he whispered a foreign name into her ear and Tar bit her tongue trying her best not to laugh maniacally. He was fucking her while thinking of someone else.

He pulled out before he could finish before either one of them could finish. Panting he grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her forward, forcing her lips against his dick. Tar opened her mouth and took him in. She bobbed her head up and down the shaft, resisting the urge to bite its head off. He groaned and started ramming his dick down her throat. It made her choke, but his hand kept her in place. She could feel his balls hitting her chin as he buried himself deeper into her mouth. Tar’s eyes started to lose focus; she needed to breathe, tears were forming around the corner of her eyes, but Carton wasn’t paying attention. His head was thrown back and his eyes were rolled back as he kept calling out the other girl’s name. “Mmmn, yes Jenevi! Ugh!” He came and Tar choked on his semen. “Fuck!” He pulled out rubbing his dick with his own hand aiming the head at Tar’s face, making sure to leave a trail of his seed on her forehead.

Panting they both laid in the bed, the cool air was now damp steaming up the glass window. “What’s your name?” Tar stared at the ceiling watching the wood patterns on it.

“Tar.”

“Hmm, Tar you’re amazing at this.” He was breathless, lucky him.

“Thanks.” It was a stupid compliment to be given. This was her job.

“Well, I’d fuck you again if I wasn’t so damn drunk right now. Got to get going before the men put any more drinks under my name.” He laughed at this. It’s not like she cared. “If I ever pass by here again, I’ll make sure to call you by name.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips. He seemed nice enough.

With that Carton left the room, his shirt put on backward and his pants hastily tied at the front. The door opened and closed, and Tar laid on the bed, her heart swollen with ugliness. She sat up and pulled the covers over her bare body, leaning her head against the window. She stared at the mountaintops up North and of the line of trees that traveled there. She wished she had never known what kindness was. She wished this as she placed her own hand in between her legs. Biting her lip, holding her voice in as she stared at the stars that guided sailors North. She wished Cat had taken her with her and as a shooting star fell from the sky Tar gasped out her own climax, wishing she hadn’t been born at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I will update next week so if you are interested for more please stay posted. I do write short chapters, but hopefully, this will make posting new chapters go faster for me. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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